


There Are Termites in My Framework

by Team Free Will (bloodofpyke)



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-24
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-31 16:12:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodofpyke/pseuds/Team%20Free%20Will
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set before Sam went off to college, while Sam was at college, and a bit during the pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There Are Termites in My Framework

Here’s what Dean knew: when he was four, still tripping over words and staggered by the world, some evil son of a bitch had crept into his house and killed his mother. He’d saved Sammy, and John had saved them both, and the pattern cycled and cycled, until he could have traced it in his sleep.

Here’s what Dean remembered: the burn of smoke in his lungs, in his throat and the weight of his little brother in his arms, the ghostly fire flickering in John’s eyes as he choked out words through fear-frozen lips.

Here’s what Dean was: a soldier.

***

He was eighteen, crumpling up the college applications that wormed their way to him no matter where he was, pretending he didn’t see Sammy smoothing them out when he’d turned away, scouring the smeared lines.

“Where’s dad?”

“Working a job. He’ll be back, he always comes back, you know that.” On his best days, Dean could almost believe that he had a father and not a commander, could almost believe that John was going to stroll through that door any second now, a smile on his face for his sons, his boys. Almost. But he was eighteen now and he knew how his world worked, knew that one day, John wasn’t going to come back, wasn’t going to make it home to his sons, his boys. And all he worried about was how he was going to protect Sammy through that, how he was going to carry him knowing that John wouldn’t be right behind them.

***

Sam left, eventually, the salvaged paltry college applications giving way to fresh-pressed applications in spotless white envelopes. He left and promised to stay gone, turning away from the hunting, and Dean broke.

He broke under the surface, carefully hidden away from John, from the shadows he was tracking, from the people he saved, but he broke all the same. 

He was twenty-six and hunting on his own now, but staying on the west coast, always sticking close to the west coast. He almost gunned it for Stanford half a dozen times a week, just to check, just to see _(what if he’s in trouble, it’s my job to protect him)_ before wrenching the keys and stopping before he’d even started.

***

“I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, you can.” 

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to.” He’d looked away when saying that, looked down at his shoes, over at the shadows dancing on the wall next to him. 

Dean never felt whole unless Sammy was right there beside him, after all.


End file.
